Crave - Teresa Mummert Page 0,63

came into view. I would not go out without a fight. I would not let this bitch take away the most important person in my life.

Elijah had her distracted. I slipped into the room beside them. I gripped the thick stick with both hands and took aim at her back. I didn’t second guess myself as I brought the weapon down. It slipped into her flesh effortlessly, between bones, just below her right shoulder blade.

She lurched and twisted trying to remove the weapon from her back, but to no avail. A single stream of blood oozed down her off-white gown that was torn just above the knee. Her arms flailed wildly without reason. I stepped back to avoid her claw-like nails, but not quickly enough. Her hand caught my cheek, her nails digging in as a look of satisfaction washed over her. Pain rippled through my face. I drew back in anger and swung toward the monster.

My fist connected with her nose. Unfortunately, this gave her the opportunity to reach me and one of her hands wrapped itself in my hair, clutching into a fist and pulling back hard. Elijah grabbed the stick and twisted sending her reeling in pain. She screeched like a wounded animal. I held my hand in front of me and examined my busted knuckles. The pain radiated up to my shoulder and I knew once the adrenaline wore off I would pay for what I had done, but I didn’t care.

“Leave,” Elijah shouted as he ripped her hand from my head, taking a handful of hair with her. I spun around on my heel and darted into the hallway. I sank to the floor and covered my ears as they growled and screamed. Olivie was a lot tougher than Elijah had anticipated.

The fighting went on for what seemed like hours. With the sound of breaking glass and an excruciating moan, the house fell silent. I held my breath as my mind swirled. I was numb from all that I had seen and felt. All I could do was hope that Elijah was the one left standing.

He stepped into the hallway moments later with blood smearing his lips. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. A long jagged claw-like mark ran down his otherwise flawless face. I sighed and jumped up into his arms, squeezing his neck tightly. Hot tears of relief rolled down my face and I never wanted to let him go again.

“We have to go. Those injuries will only hold her for so long,” Elijah warned through a clenched jaw. I could tell he was struggling with my bleeding wounds. I hoped he had fed enough from Olivie to hold him over.

I steadied myself on my feet and walked into the bedroom to grab my things that Elijah had already packed. Possessions in hand, we hurried out of the beach house and into the street. Elijah scanned the alleyway for Olivie’s vehicle. He spotted a blue classic car that seemed out of place in the modern neighborhood. In a flash, he was on the car, prying the hood from the latch. He gripped onto part of the engine and pulled, effortlessly freeing it from the car. He walked back toward me with a quickened pace, car part in hand.

“Get in,” He called as he walked to the driver’s side of his sleek, black Barracuda. I reached for the door handle and realized that my fingers on my right hand were useless. Fumbling with the handle, I was able to pull it open with my left hand and slide in. My adrenaline rush was fading as fast as it had come over me and every part of my body began to ache. Elijah was already revving the engine. His wound was nothing more than a faded pink line.

“Where are we going?” I asked as panic began to set in and I fumbled with my seatbelt. The engine had roared once more before he answered.

“We have to kill Reid’s Sector,” He responded, never glancing my way. I repeated his words in my head. Kill Reid’s Sector. I had no idea how to respond to that. My mind flashed to memories of Grayson. I had to say something. I could not condemn him to die. Before I could form the words, Elijah answered my concerns.

“Grayson will not give up until he has killed you. He cannot stop. He’s not the person you loved. That Grayson died the moment he was turned into a